Bad Company
by pikapikatchu
Summary: Greg meets a woman at a self-help group he seems to be falling for, but she might not be the perfect fit for him.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello my dear readers!**

 **CSI is now officially over, but that doesn't mean that I'll stop publishing my stories :) I still have a few finished ones and another few in progress! I hope you'll enjoy them!**

 **So here's my latest one. It's quite short and a quick read!**

 **Have fun!**

* * *

Greg set foot into the lab with a heavy look on his face. It was a Sunday night and he had a secret he didn't feel like sharing, yet it felt wrong to keep it from anyone – especially Nick. He walked into the break room, greeting his friend with a faked smile on his face as he made his way to the coffee machine.

"How was it?" Nick asked as he did some paperwork for his latest case. He was called in early today because the police had arrested a man who confessed to committing the crime the CSI was working on.

"It was fine. How about you? Did the guy really do it?" Greg sat down next to Nick at the table.

He nodded. "Yeah, and he's remorseful, too. How many people were there tonight?"

"Nine, I think. So the case is closed?"

Nick gave him a look as he smiled. "Stop trying to avoid the conversation. I want to know everything about it. Did you enjoy it?"

The younger CSI sighed. "It's not something you **enjoy** , Nick."

"I know, I know. Sorry. You know what I mean. Does it help?"

He shrugged. "I don't know yet."

"Did you tell your story yet?"

Greg shook his head as he looked down on his coffee mug. It embarrassed him to admit that.

"Did you talk to anyone there?"

"Not really. There's one guy who tried to talk to me a few times, Rock, but he kinda freaks me out."

"Why?" Nick grabbed Greg's mug and took a sip out of it.

"Well, for one, he calls himself Rock." Greg gave his friend a look. "And his story is... I don't know, it's just..."

"You're just not used to listening to other victims telling their stories in that setting, Greg. I'm sure it's something you need to adjust to."

"I don't know it's something I **want** to adjust to. I know Dr. Reyes thinks it's a good idea for me to go to a self-help group, but I gave it a try and didn't like it."

"No, that's not true. You went there three times, that's not giving it a try. This needs time, you need time to be able to trust those strangers to tell your story."

"And then what? Watching them pity me is supposed to be helpful? How?"

"Who says they're going to pity you?"

"Oh Nick." Greg sighed. "I watched their reaction whenever someone told their story."

"You're just making up excuses not to go there anymore. And you know what? You don't have to. You're an adult, you can do whatever you want. But when Dr. Reyes suggests something, you know there's something to it. She's never been wrong about anything like that before. Go or don't go. It'll only be your loss."

* * *

Greg thought that Nick was quite harsh on him, but he knew he was right. He didn't feel like a self-help group was the right way to deal with his issues, yet it took a lot of strength every time to make himself go there. He thought about it the whole shift until he came up with an idea he hoped would help him with it a little better.

Nick walked into the evidence room, where Greg had been working in for two hours. "You look tired. Go take a break, I'll take over."

"Thanks." He gave him a sheepish smile as he put his gloves off. He walked towards the door, but figured this was a good moment to ask Nick about his idea. "Hey Nick. I thought about what you said about the group."

Nick put a lab coat on as he smiled. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "Would you... would you accompany me to one of their meetings?"

Nick had offered to go with Greg to the first meeting, anyway, so getting asked really made him happy. "Of course."

* * *

Greg was pretty relieved that Nick agreed to go to one of the self-help group's meetings with him. He figured it was the perfect opportunity to tell him his secret, being quite confident that his friend would be understanding instead of judging.

Nick was coming into work early the next day, since another man confessed to the case he thought he could already close. This man was staying at a motel room Nick just processed. He bagged several pieces of evidence, he needed to walk to his car and back inside twice to carry them all out. He grabbed the last three bags and his CSI kit and walked out. He almost dropped what he had in his hands as he spotted Greg five doors away, standing in front of a motel room. A woman was standing in the doorway, gently smiling at the CSI and stroking his arm as he walked in.

Nick didn't even put the evidence bags into the car, he just dropped them inside the motel room and walked over to the room Greg just went into. He knocked on the door furiously – almost violently.

After a short moment of silence that felt like forever for the agitated CSI, the woman he had just seen walk in asked from inside, "...Who is it?"

"LVPD, open up!"

After taking a look through the door spy she opened up – quite reluctantly. "...How can I help you?"

Nick slammed the door open, causing the woman to jump back quite scared. "Greg?"

"...What the hell, Nick?!" Greg asked shocked as he was walking out of the bathroom.

"You know him?!" the woman asked confused. "Greg, what's going on?"

"I do. Allison, I'm sorry about this. We'll leave."

"You bet we will." Nick grabbed Greg's arm and pulled him out of the room.

* * *

Greg let his friend drag him out of the motel room, but once the door was closed, he pushed him away from him. "What the **hell** is wrong with you?!"

"...With me? Are you serious? What were you doing in there?!" Nick yelled at him.

"None of your goddamn business!" Greg turned away from his friend and walked towards his car.

"Hey! No, stop! You have a lot of explaining to do!" He ran after him.

"Get lost, Nick!"

Nick grabbed Greg's arm again to turn him around, but was surprised that his friend pushed him – very aggressively – away from him. After he looked into his shocked friend's face, Greg calmed down a bit. "You had no right to do that," was all he said before getting in his car and driving off.


	2. Chapter 2

**I hope you enjoyed the last one and will enjoy this one, too ;)**

* * *

Nick was nervously waiting inside the break room for Greg to walk in. It was ten minutes before midnight and usually, Greg arrived earlier than that. The moment Greg walked into the room, Nick jumped off his seat. "We need to talk. Now."

"No, thank you." Greg gave him a look as he meant to walk past him. But Nick didn't let him, he grabbed him by his arm and shoulder and pushed him out of the room and into the evidence room. "...Nick, what... what the hell?" Greg was confused and surprised, his arm and shoulder were hurting a bit from Nick's tight grip. "...Let go of me!"

Nick closed the door behind him. "Tell me what you were doing in that motel room!"

"...What the hell makes you think it's okay to treat me that way?"

Nick didn't even turn around to look at his friend. "Please tell me this woman isn't a hooker."

"L-Like I said, none of your business..."

He finally turned around, with worry and anger in his face. "Greg!"

Seeing his friend like that scared the younger CSI quite a lot. "...I-I gotta go." He walked towards the door, meaning to open it up, but Nick didn't let him. He stood in the way.

" **Please** tell me you weren't there to see a hooker!" He tried to whisper, but was too angry to do so.

"...Okay, let me just tell you that it's not what it looks like. You know me, I'd never... Come on!"

Nick leaned against the door with his back. "Then what did you do there?"

"...Can we please talk about this later?" Even though Greg trusted him with his life, he felt highly uncomfortable with an angered Nick keeping him inside this room.

"No, I need to know now."

"Nick..." Greg sighed. His friend only made his confession much more uncomfortable than it needed to be, but he knew there really wasn't a way around it anymore. "...Yes she is a hooker, but no, I didn't pay her to... do anything."

"...Then what did you pay her for? To talk?"

"No! No, Nick, I didn't pay her at all. She's... a friend."

"...A friend? Are you dating her?" Nick was only getting more worried now.

"No, she's... She's from the self-help group."

"...You said you didn't talk to anyone there."

"I lied, okay? Because I knew you'd react... well, like that, when you'd find out."

"No, I only overreacted because I thought you were... I don't know what I thought, I just thought you were getting yourself in trouble. ...And I'm still not convinced you're not doing that."

"Stop it, Nick. We're not doing anything illegal and I don't know her from work, there's nothing that could get me in trouble."

"...So what **are** you two doing?"

"We **just** talk."

"...But why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Greg sat down on a chair. "She's a good person, that's why. She went through something similar to my experience, we can relate to each others' stories."

"...So you did tell your story?"

"Only to her."

"...Okay, I get it. You can relate, you like each other... Great. But isn't the whole point of this group to stay anonymous? What were you doing in that room?"

"...She had a panic attack and called me because she didn't want to be alone."

Nick looked at him surprised. "...And you just went there?"

"Yeah, Nick. I just went there." He rolled his eyes. "Why not?"

"Because you hardly know her and don't know whether you can trust her or not." Nick sighed as he grabbed a chair to sit down next to him. "It's a bad idea to get involved with her. Believe me, I know."

"Who says I want to... get involved with her? We're just friends, what's wrong with that?"

"Come on, I saw the way she touched you before you walked in."

"...She knows about me, Nick. She knows I'm not interested in a relationship right now."

"So? That doesn't mean she can't fall in love with you. ...Are **you** falling in love with her?"

"...Don't be ridiculous."

"No, I'm serious. Are you?"

Greg got off his seat, obviously looking quite nervous. "W-We should get going, our shift is starting in a minute." He walked towards the door, but Nick once again stood in the way.

"Listen. Whatever you might be feeling for this woman, you can't act on it. It's a bad idea and you know that." Nick looked in Greg's eyes. He was starting to understand what his friend was feeling and thinking. "...Don't think just because she sleeps with men for a living means she won't want to have sex in a relationship."

Nick's insight caught Greg off guard. He was thinking exactly that, but had a lot of doubts about it, as well. Nick let Greg pass to get out of the room, but neither one of them said anything on their way back to the break room.

* * *

There was a lot of tension between Nick and Greg the following days. Neither one was willing to address the problem again so they didn't. Instead, Nick went to one of Greg's self-help group meetings, where they continued to make quite shallow small-talk instead of talk about the real issues.

"Hey Allison." Greg walked over to the woman he had met a few weeks ago at his very first meeting.

"Hi." She only briefly glanced at Greg before her eyes fixated on Nick.

"H-How are you?"

"I'm good. What's he doing here?"

"Actually, I wanted him to meet you. This is Nick."

Nick reached his hand out, meaning to shake Allison's. "I'm really sorry for the other day."

She didn't shake hands with him. "Thank you," she replied rather coldly. Nick didn't really mean it when he said he was sorry and she could sense that.

"It was all a big misunderstanding and..."

She interrupted Greg. "Yeah, I figured. Because I'm a prostitute, there must have been something illegal going on, right?"

Nick sighed rather annoyed, causing Greg to give him a look. "He was just trying to look out for me. I was hoping we could leave this behind us and... start over, you know?"

"Greg, you're a nice guy and I enjoyed our talks, I really did. But... I'm not interested in being friends with that guy. You were probably right, it's best to separate the group meetings from our private lives."

"...No, I don't want that. I..."

She interrupted him again. "Well, **I** do. Sorry."


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry I've been so slow with updating, I'll try to do better for the rest of this story! I already have some others waiting to be published ;) I hope you guys still enjoy my stuff!**

* * *

For the next two weeks, Allison kept her distance towards Greg at the meetings. She greeted him, but other than that never talked to him. So when she called him while he was getting ready to leave for work that evening, he was quite surprised to hear she needed his help. She sounded as agitated and frightened as she did when she called him last time, when she had a panic attack and didn't know how to deal with it. But this time she wasn't at the motel, but at a storage unit and wouldn't tell him what was going on. He had a bad feeling about it, but decided to go, anyway. When he arrived there, Allison hurried up to him, shaking and crying, her hair and clothes all messed up.

"...Oh god, what happened?" Greg asked with a worried look on his face. He looked her up and down and noticed a few blood drops on her clothes and face. "Are you hurt?"

"No. **He** is."

* * *

On their way downstairs to the storage unit where Allison claimed she had to defend herself, she explained Greg what happened. "So I recognized him. He's the guy who attempted to rape me, who beat me up. He was getting his stuff out of the storage room and that's when I... approached him. He laughed at me, Greg. Told me to get lost, called me names and... that's when I..." She opened the door to the storage space. "That's when I hit him."

Greg's eyes widened as he looked inside. "Oh god."

"Do you think he's dead?" She asked with a nervous and desperate smile on her face. "Did I... did I kill him?"

Greg's eyes wandered between her and the man lying on the floor, lying in a small puddle of his own blood. "...How often did you hit him? And with what?"

Allison stepped inside the storage space before Greg could tell her not to. She grabbed a wheelbrace and showed it to the shocked CSI. "I don't know. Four or five... No, four times. ...maybe."

As soon as she said that, Greg wondered how she didn't have more blood on her clothes. He could answer this question himself as he spotted a bloody trenchcoat a few feet away from the victim. She wore this to one of the meetings before. "Four times is a lot."

"I was in such a rage, I don't know how that happened... I didn't mean to..." She giggled nervously. "I don't know, maybe I did mean to."

"...Did you check his pulse?"

"I didn't feel a pulse..." She looked at Greg. "What am I suppose to do now?"

"Okay, we're gonna go back up to my car and... wait there for the police, alright?"

"Police? No! No, Greg, I called you to avoid going to the police with this. They won't understand. But you do, right? You do!"

"Yes, but... We're still gonna have to call them. I'll do it, alright?" He slowly got his cell phone out. "It's alright, they will understand."

"Okay, but..." Both her and Greg startled as the man lying on the ground started to cough. "Oh god, he's... he's alive!"

Greg hurried inside the storage room, bending down to the man. "Sir, stay calm, help is on the way." He went on to dial 911, but Allison grabbed the phone out of his hand before he could make the call. "What are you doing? He needs help. **Now**."

"I can't let you do this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She wiped away the tears on her face. "I thought you'd help me."

"...I am trying to, but I can't do it without my phone. If you think I can just make this go away... I can't. But I can help you deal with it. Once they find out he's the man who hurt you, they won't arrest you," he said, lying. The way she told the story didn't indicate self defense at all, and even if it would help her case that he attacked her in the past, it wasn't a reason to get no jail time at all. "But you have to trust me."

Allison took a few steps back to get out of the storage room as she watched Greg trying to stop the bleeding on the man's forehead. "I'm sorry, Greg." She tossed the wheelbrace into the storage room as she reached for the door handle.

"...What are you doing? Allison, don't do this. Don't leave, you need to help me help him!"

"It's only for a few hours, I'll let them know you're here once I'm over the boarder."

"What?! Wait!" As he realized she was about to lock him in this storage room, he got up, meaning to hurry out. She pulled a gun out of her purse and pointed it at him.

"Don't come any closer!" she yelled as she was crying. "I'm sorry, Greg, I shouldn't have dragged you into this."

"...Please Allison, don't do this. I can't help you once you do this."

"You won't have to, I'll help myself. Give me your keys."

"...What?"

"Your keys! Hand them over or I swear to god, I'll shoot both of you!" she yelled aggressively.

Greg reached into his jacket pocket and tossed the keys to her. "You can't do this to me. Please."

"Good luck, Greg." She closed the door and locked it, leaving him with this barely breathing man.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for the review! I'm happy to see there's still interest in my stories :) Now enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Even though he didn't have much hope that the victim would survive his wounds without proper medical care soon, Greg managed to get the wound on the man's forehead to stop bleeding. Remembering that Allison said she had hit him four times, he checked the man for more wounds on his body, hoping that he didn't take all the hits to his head. And indeed, he had a broken arm and beginning bruising on his upper body. The CSI wasn't quite sure whether or not this was a good sign, since this could mean he was bleeding internally as well, but he needed to hope for the best right now. He had no idea how much time he had already spent in here, but was quite scared he'd have a lot more ahead of him. Depending on where Allison was planning to cross the boarder, he knew it would take hours, if she even planned on telling anyone he was here. He kept banging on the door occasionally, hoping someone would hear him, but knowing he was fooling himself into thinking anyone would need to get into the storage facility at this hour. All he could do now was wait, sitting down next to the victim and hoping he'd make it through the night.

When the victim started coughing again, Greg startled. "...Sir, can you hear me?" He had placed his flashlight so that the room was at least a little bit lit. He was able to look into the victim's face and to his surprise, his eyes were open. "Sir? Can you tell me your name?"

The man wanted to get up.

"No, no! Don't, stay down." He gently put his hands on him to keep him from getting up, but the man forcefully pushed Greg's hands away from him and sat up.

"What the hell's going on?!" he asked confused and disoriented. "Aaargh, damn it..." He just now realized his whole body was hurting. "What's wrong with my arm? I can't move it."

"I think it's broken. You should lie down, you're severely injured."

He touched the wound on his head. "...What is this?"

Greg had used a piece of his t-shirt to bandage the wound. "You've been hit with a wheelbrace."

"...What?!" He slowly remembered. "...That bitch! She did it, right?"

Greg slightly nodded.

"Where is she?"

Greg shook his head. "She panicked and locked us in."

"...You know her? Who is she?"

Greg raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"No." The man scooted over a little to lean against the wall. "God, it hurts so much..."

"...She claims she knows you."

"Yeah? Who did she say I am?"

"...Well, she was attacked a few months ago and thought you're the one who did it."

"So I'll die here inside my storage room because she confused me with someone else?" He patted himself down. "Where's my damn phone?"

"I suppose she took it, just like she took mine." Greg sighed. "I'm sorry, I tried to stop her but she had a gun."

The man nodded. "There's gotta be some way out of here. I... I'm not feeling too well, I'm dizzy."

"Here, lie down." Greg walked over to the man to help him, putting his jacket under his head.

"Thanks..."

Greg grabbed the flashlight and started looking around the storage room. It was a rather small space, but quite neatly organized.

"...What are you doing?"

Greg shrugged. "Just looking around if you don't mind. There's nothing else to do so..."

The man interrupted him as he yelled at the CSI. "I **do** mind! Stop it!"

He frowned. "...Sorry, I just..." As much as Greg was glad the man was still alive, he preferred when he was unconscious and not talking. "I'm getting impatient, I want out of here and need something to keep myself busy with."

"Find something else than my personal belongings."

He pointed the flashlight around. "Looks more like trash than belongings, but whatever," he said under his breath.

"Someone's gonna find us, right? Someone will notice you're gone and start looking for you, right?"

Greg sighed. "Yeah but... they don't know I'm here and there's no way for them to come here to look for me, unfortunately. What about you? Are you married or anything?"

"Yes but... She doesn't know I'm here, either."

"Great." He rolled his eyes sarcastically. "But she'll start looking for you everywhere, maybe she'll wind up here soon and..."

"She doesn't know about this place."

"...Really? You're storing her stuff away without her knowing?"

He moaned in pain as he tried to sit up again. "No, just my stuff."

He pointed his flashlight at the man's feet. "Those high heels over there don't look like they could fit you." He chuckled, but stopped when the man finally sat up with an angry look on his face. "...Sorry, I know, none of my business."

"You got that right."

Greg pointed his flashlight at the shoes he was just referring to for a few moments.

"...You know what? How about you give me that flashlight."

"What for?" Greg turned around to look at the man, but the man was already quite close to the CSI, grabbing the flashlight himself. The stern look on the man's face scared Greg a bit. "...You really shouldn't move so much, you know."

"I don't want you sniffing through my stuff, got it?"

Greg nodded. "Fine, let's just wait for help in silence, then."

* * *

Nick was getting nervous as he couldn't reach Greg on his phone at the start of the shift. It was quite unlikely for Greg not to show up without calling, so he decided to ask Brass to tell his guys to look out for him and his car while he drove over to Allison's, hoping Greg would be there. He knocked on her door quite violently. "Open up, Allison! It's Nick! Is Greg in there?" He looked around annoyed when he heard noise inside the motel room. He also spotted Greg's car parked there. "...Greg? I know you're in there!" As Nick proceeded to knock on the door again, he was almost hit by the bullet that came flying through it, missing him by mere inches. He ran for cover behind the car parked in front of the door next to Allison's room, but got hit by another bullet before he reached it. The bullet hit his back and he went down. It took him a moment to be able to stand up again, the bullet was stuck in the bulletproof vest he was wearing. He immediately called for backup. "Allison! Put your hands up and get out!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry uploading took me a while! Merry belated Christmas and a happy New Year! ;)**

* * *

Greg and the man had spent the last hour in silence. The man was getting weaker by the minute and Greg was slowly starting to lose his mind in this small, confined storage unit. "Hey, you never told me your name," he said to finally break the uncomfortable silence. "I'm Greg."

"Gary," the man said with a weak voice.

Greg was very worried and didn't know what to do to help him. "How are you feeling?"

"...Tired. I think I need to sleep for a while..." The man closed his eyes and stopped talking. It shocked Greg a little, fearing he might've just died, but he was still breathing. He grabbed the flashlight to finally take a look around. He first took a closer look at the high heels. Black, velvet shoes that had a stain on them. The velvet was a little stiff on that spot, so Greg smelled it. "...Blood?" he whispered to himself. As he started to look through the shelved boxes, he noticed that most of the stuff in there were women's clothings. Superficially, there was a lot of tools and hardware lying around, but all boxes were filled with women's belongings. Greg made up several theories about this in his head, but the first one – Gary being a cross-dresser – was quickly refuted. The clothes came in different sizes and none fit this tall, broad-shouldered man. His second theory was that he had an affair and for some reason needed to store his lover's clothes in here. It didn't make too much sense, but in Greg's state of mind at the moment, it did. But this theory was proven wrong as well as he opened another box. He had fumbled through the other boxes a little, but knew it would be a horrible idea to do the same thing in this one.

"Hey!" Gary yelled. "What did I tell you? Get away from my stuff!"

"...Yeah, sure. Sorry."

Gary was badly wounded, but this didn't keep him from noticing the changed look on Greg's face. "...Did you open the golden box?"

"No. No, I didn't," the CSI replied nervously. "Just looked around, didn't open anything."

"You must be about as smart as you're good at lying. I told you not to look around in here." Gary got up on his feet, much to Greg's surprise.

"You need to stay down, you're hurt."

"Shut up!" He grabbed the wheelbrace he had been hit with.

"...Put that down, you're destroying Allison's fingerprints on the weapon."

Gary had an evil grin on his face. "You have no idea how little I care about that right now."

"Okay, Gary, you're hurt. You can't lift your right arm, what are you doing? Put that down."

"It's a good thing I'm lefthanded then, right?" He took a step closer.

"...Don't." Greg took two back, but already reached the wall. "Please."

* * *

Several heavily armed police officers were surrounding Allison's motel room by now. "I don't know, she just started shooting at me," Nick explained the whole situation to Brass and Russell as the two arrived together. "I begged her to tell me whether Greg was okay or not, she didn't answer. I'm really worried."

Russell nodded. "She has no reason to hurt him, you said they were friends."

"I warned him about her. I tried to tell him to stay away from her. I **knew** she was trouble." He shook his head in desperation. "But this... Man, I didn't expect this."

"We'll get him out of there alive, Nicky." Brass patted his back. "It's gonna be alright."

Brass started to talk to Allison, trying to get her to surrender, but she said she would only talk to Nick. He was more than willing to do it, hoping it would save Greg. They talked for almost an hour until she was finally ready to give up. She was cuffed and put in a patrol car while the officers raided her home.

Nick watched them do their job, with Russell by his side. "...What's going on?" He saw them whisper to eachother and Brass. "...No. Oh god." Brass walked over to the two CSIs with a serious look on his face. Nick was sick to his stomach, fearing the worst. He'd seen this look a few times after they raided a crime scene, hoping to find survivers, but only finding dead victims.

"He's not here," Brass said as he reached them. "He's not in there, there's no blood and nothing else that suggests she killed... someone in there."

"...What? Then where is he?" Nick looked over to the patrol car Allison was sitting in. "...Where is he?" He stormed over to her.

"Nick!" Russell ran after him.

"Where is he?!" Nick opened the car door with force. "What did you do to him?!"

"I want a deal first."

"...What?! You wanna know what deal you'll get when you kill a CSI? The death penalty!"

"Greg's not dead! He's fine. Now get me a lawyer, I need a good deal."

* * *

Nick was impatiently rubbing his face as he listened to Allison talk to Brass, the district attorney and her lawyer in the interrogation room. "I'll kill her if she did something to him. I'll **kill** her."

"You need to stay calm, Nick. We have no reason to think she was lying when she said he was alright. There was no sign of a crime inside her home." Russell put his hand on Nick's shoulder to comfort him.

"...Except for the bloody clothes inside his car, right?"

"...That didn't belong to him. It was her clothes." Russell said that as if it meant anything. He knew as well as Nick that this didn't mean it couldn't be Greg's blood.

Nick received a text message. His heart started racing as he realized it was Robin with the results of the DNA test she performed on the blood on the clothes they were just talking about. He released a big sigh. "It's not his blood. Male DNA, but not Greg's. Thank god." He rested his head on the window to the interrogation room for a moment. "How are we going to find him, Russell? He could be anywhere."

"She'll tell us, don't worry."

"But what if she won't? She obviously did **something** , why else would she need a deal?"

"Come on." He gently got Nick away from in front of the interrogation room. "Let's grab a coffee, we don't need to listen to that."

They were only gone for five minutes when Brass hurried up to them in the police station's lobby. "We know where he is!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy New Year, guys! Here's the new chapter, I hope you enjoy the story!**

* * *

Allison described them what happened and that she had locked Greg inside the storage unit, but couldn't remember which one. She only knew that it was downstairs, but had no recollection how she got there, so the police officers had to look for it. "Greg?" Nick yelled through the hallway of the storage facility, hoping to get a response from his friend. "Where the hell are you, Greg?" he whispered to himself, starting to lose hope. "...Wait, you heard that?" Nick was sure he heard some noise, so him and four police officers hurried there. "Greg?"

"...Nick?" Greg said insecure from inside the storage unit. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, are you alright?"

"I am now." His laugh was choked up by his tears.

"Stay back, we're opening up."

One of the officers opened the lock with pincers and opened the door.

"...What happened in here?" Nick walked in with a shocked look. Gary was lying on the floor again, unconscious, barely breathing. Greg was sitting a few inches away from him, the wheelbrace in his left hand, his right arm resting next to him, slowly turning blue, looking slightly deformed from some swelling. "She broke your arm."

"No." Greg shook his head. "Please tell me you have paramedics with you."

"...Yeah, they'll take care of you, don't worry." Nick told the paramedics through his radio that the scene was cleared and they were allowed to come down.

"He needs it. I can wait."

Nick glanced over to the man, wondering whether the paramedics would be of any help for this man. "Sure. What happened? Why did she break your arm?"

"She didn't."

"Greg, it's obviously broken."

"I know, but she didn't do it. He did."

Nick frowned. "...What? Him?"

Greg's eyes watered. "What's taking the paramedics so long? He needs help."

"Greg, what happened in here? Why did he attack you?"

Greg sighed heavy-heartedly as he explained. "He told me not to look around here, I did anyway... Take a look inside the golden box over there."

Nick looked at his friend rather confused, but did what he was asked for. "...What's this?"

"He assured me he wasn't the one who attacked Allison. I believed him, I needed to believe him. I didn't want to be locked up with a rapist... And then I opened the box. A dozen women's panties... Bloody and torn apart."

"...Jesus."

"He could barely stand up, Nick. But when he realized that I knew... He was quite determined to kill me."

The paramedics walked in and instantly started working on Gary. "We're sending another unit out for you, sit tight, alright?"

Greg nodded. "No hurry. Just make sure he survives."

"I'm not sure that's in our hand. I'm sorry."

Greg started crying, much to Nick's confusion. "What's wrong? Does it hurt so much? I'll ask one of them to give you something to..."

"No. He needs to survive."

"...Why?" Nick frowned. "He's a rapist. Who knows how many women he hurt, why should we care?"

"Because I don't want to be responsible for another man's death."

* * *

"Stop beating yourself up over this, you did what you had to do." Nick handed Greg a tray with hospital food. "Now eat, you need the energy."

"I'm not really hungry." Greg wasn't concentrating on Nick at all, he was nervously waiting for news on Gary. "They know we're waiting, right?"

"I'm sure they're still working on him. Just relax and eat." Nick put the tray on the table in front of Greg. They were sitting in the hospital's cafeteria and while Nick wanted to get Greg home, the younger CSI insisted on waiting to get an update on Gary's condition.

Greg sighed as he started eating. "I'm so angry, you know? Angry with Allison... Gary... and myself."

"You're the only one who did everything right, there's no reason to be angry with yourself."

"I wrestled a man with a bleeding head wound down to the ground." He gave him a look.

"So? What else were you supposed to do, lean back and wait for him to beat you to death? Believe me, had you done that... I would've been angry with you and I would've had a good reason to be. But you? No, you should pat yourself on the back. You managed to defend yourself without causing any unnecessary injury to the guy."

Greg put his head down. He was trying to believe Nick, but it was hard to do so, feeling as guilty as he did. "What's gonna happen to Allison?"

"You shouldn't worry about that horrible woman."

"Nick, you don't get it... He put her through hell. I'm not sure if I..."

"Stop, no. You **do** know. You had the chance to kill Novak and you didn't. And you would've never dragged an innocent person you considered a friend into your business the way she did you."

"Stop being so rational." Greg smiled. The smile faded as the doctor who admitted Gary walked over to them. "...Nick."

Nick turned around to the doctor.

"Mr. Sanders, we were able to treat Mr. Brook's wounds and so far it's looking good... He probably has you to thank you for it."

Greg frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You administered first aid quickly and did a good job, you kept him from losing more blood."

"...But he has a brain injury..."

The doctor nodded. "It's a concussion he'll recover from."

Greg smiled in relief. "Thank you. That's great news."

Nick smiled, too, as the doctor left. "See? Everything fine. Not only didn't you kill him, you saved that guy. Happy now?"

"...Yeah, I actually am. I know he's one of the bad guys, Nick. I know that but... I'm still glad."


	7. Chapter 7

**Last chapter! I hope you enjoyed this story! And despite the show having already ended, I still have a few ideas and finished stories I'd like to share with you. So stay tuned and thank you for reading!**

* * *

Before Nick and Greg went home, the younger CSI asked to see Allison.

"Greg, I'm so happy to see you!" She walked up to him and tried to hug him, but an officer pulled her away from him quickly. She gave the officer an angry look before turning back to Greg. "Oh no, what happened to your arm?"

Greg sat down at the table in the interrogation room, suppressing his urge to roll his eyes over her stupid question. "You locked me up with a violent criminal, what did you expect to happen?"

"...What? He's... He did this? He's alive?" She looked at him shocked.

"Yeah. You roughed him up pretty good, but he pulled through. Even had enough strength left in him to do this." He slightly lifted his right arm. It was in a cast up to his ellbow. "How could you? Seriously, how could you lock me up in there?"

"You don't understand, I was under shock... I didn't know what I was doing, I just needed to get away from there..."

"Yeah? Didn't you know what you were doing when you shot at Nick, too?"

She didn't reply to that at first, she didn't know how. "I did what I thought I had to do to survive," she finally responded.

"No. You did what you thought you had to do to keep yourself out of trouble. You didn't care who else you hurt in the process, did you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I really thought you would understand."

"...Understand what?!" he yelled. He quickly recollected himself and went on talking calmly again. "Do you have any idea how scary it was for me to be locked up with a **rapist**? You know my story, I can't believe you did this to me."

"...Greg, I thought he was dead. ...Or at least injured enough not to be a threat anymore."

"Doesn't matter. I would've never done this to you."

"That's only because you got lucky!"

"...Lucky, how?"

"Your attacker already is in a coma, he won't hurt you ever again. But this guy..."

"Yeah, I'm one lucky guy..." He laughed humorlessly. "And you're getting in prison for attempted murder."

"...What? I was only defending myself."

"See, that's where you're wrong. You went after him. You spotted him miles away from the storage facility and decided to follow him there to confront him. Any judge would call that premeditation."

"...But you know the truth. You would've done the same!"

He shook his head. "I'm very sorry. I'll tell them what I know and saw but... It probably won't help you much. It might help your case that he's a dangerous serial rapist but... You'll most likely have to go to prison, anyway."

"...No! Greg, please. Do something! I can't go to prison, I... I can't."

He got off his seat. "I'm sorry, Allison."

She grabbed his wrist. "You're my friend, you need to help me."

He looked down on her hand with a sad look on his face before the officer pulled her away from him. He got a pen and paper out of his pocket and wrote something down. "Call her. She's a great psychiatrist, maybe she can help you."

Allison nodded as she started crying.

* * *

Nick walked into his living room after a long, exhausting shift. "Good morning."

"Hey Nick." Greg had a plate in his hand he put down on the coffee table. "I hope you're hungry, I made pancakes."

Nick smiled. "Wow, with one hand?"

His friend nodded with a grin on his face as he walked back into the kitchen. "Took a little longer than it would've with two hands, but it worked." He came out of the kitchen with a bottle of maple syrup.

"Here, let me help you." Nick followed him back into the kitchen and grabbed the other plate and two bottles of water.

Both men sat down at the couch and started eating.

"Pretty good for one hand, huh?" Greg laughed.

"They are, thanks. So when are you coming back to work?"

He shrugged. "I told Russell I'll be back tomorrow but... I might take another day or two off."

Nick's eyebrows slightly raised. "Really? That's... unusual. But a good idea."

He gave him a look. "I know. There's not too much work I can do with one hand in a cast, anyway. Especially with the right hand being the broken one."

"Yeah, I bet that sucks... So, I've talked to Brass today. He said you asked for information on false imprisonment laws."

"...So?" Greg took a bite from the pancake, looking quite nervously.

"That's not her only offense, you know."

"Yeah, but it would add up to her sentence and... I don't think it'd help anyone if she spent more time in prison."

"She attempted to kill this guy, Greg. Yeah I agree, he had it coming... but she had no right to act on it. And then she forced you inside this storage room with a gun. That's not a light defense, that's bad."

" **His** gun, mind you. And... I don't think she would've ever pulled the trigger."

Nick sighed. "She pulled the trigger on me, Greg."

"...What? What do you mean?"

"I didn't mean to tell you this but... She shot at me when I went there." He got off his seat and lifted his shirt to show Greg the bruise from where the bullet hit Nick's bulletproof vest. "I could've died, had I not worn the vest."

Greg's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because it shouldn't matter. What she did to you is reason enough for her to go to prison."

Greg sighed deeply, silence followed for a moment. "It's out of my hands, anyway, I shouldn't waste too much time thinking about it."

Nick nodded a little uneasy. The thoughtful look on Greg's face was worrying him. "What's on your mind?"

The younger CSI shrugged. "I'm just starting to question myself. I thought I could trust her."

"No way you could've seen that one coming."

" **You** didn't trust her."

"Because I know from experience that CSIs and prostitutes aren't a good match." He smiled.

"I thought I could trust Camille, too."

"I think you two just met at the wrong time."

Greg's thoughtful look intensified.

"And don't you dare bring up Juno now."

Greg smiled at him. "I never knew you were a mind reader."

"Juno's a psychopath, they're designed to fool people into trusting them. You just need to be a little more patient."

Greg sighed thoughtful as he pulled out his cell phone, browsing through the contact list. He stopped at Camille's name. "I've been thinking about calling her, you know."

"...Who? Juno? Are you out of..."

Greg quickly interrupted him. "No, not her. Camille."

"...Oh. Thank god."

He gave him a look. "I know it's only been a few weeks, but I keep wondering what could've been."

"We all have this one person we let slip away that will make us always wonder what could've been. But that doesn't mean anything good would come out of it. Just because we regret it doesn't mean it's not better this way, you know?"

He nodded. "This feeling sure sucks, either way."

"It does. But it'll get better."

Greg looked at his watch. "Are you working tonight?"

"No, I got the night off. Why?" Nick asked as he took another bite from his pancakes.

"Well, I was hoping you were free tonight. The self-help group's meeting tonight."

"Sure, count me in." Nick smiled at his friend as he gently patted his shoulder. "But we should agree on one rule. No dating inside this group, deal?"

Greg chuckled as he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I think I can work that out."

* * *

 **Ende.**


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